


In Search for a Queen

by qtipping



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, sorry - Freeform, this is the other work that probably won't be finished
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 11:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12934176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qtipping/pseuds/qtipping
Summary: Rowan, Gavriel, Lorcan, and Elide are in pursuit of their Queen, but a storm suddenly steers them off course. Now they must get whatever allies they can to help in their quest.





	1. The Storm

Elide was jolted awake, nearly being thrown from her cot. She heard sailors hurry from their bunks and shouting orders as thunder cracked. She struggled up, thankful of Lorcan demanding her own room for privacy. The boat rocked to the left, she struggled to stay standing, but when it tilted to the right suddenly, she was on the floor.

She crawled to her dresser, pulling out some pants and shirt she struggled to dress as the storm raged on. For the weeks the four had been on this boat, searching for Aelin, they had never encountered a storm this bad, and the captain said there were no signs of a strong storm coming. She laced up her boots, grabbed her leather jacket and stumbled from her room.

From above deck she could hear the captain giving orders to his men, which ropes to pull and hold, where to empty water, etc. She also heard Rowan shouting that his magic was doing little to hold the storm at bay.

“It must be some sort of magic!” Rowan’s voice was but a whisper compared to the deafening thunder, “It’s tearing through my magic, at this rate we’ll be in the water before dawn!”

“Make it hold!” The captain replied to him and went back to his orders. 

He is an experienced captain, Elide reminded herself as she heaved up the stairs, surely he will get us out of this storm with little damage; magic or not.

She reached the door and had but to nudge it before it was whipped open from the vicious wind, rain was pelting down practically sideways, and she could only make out what was happening from the constant lightning.

White light flashed, and she could see where everyone was: Rowan was at the head of the boat, trying desperately to keep the wind and rain away from them, Gavriel and Lorcan however, they were helping the sailors. She saw the two focused on heaving ropes down, the rain making their shirts practically transparent, making her able to see every chiseled muscle being used to control the boat.

Lorcan turned towards her, his inky black hair sticking to his face and neck, eyes widening when he noticed her. He ran to her with fae-like ease, holding her arm to steady herself on the boat.

“Get back inside!” He shouted, his tone thick with worry. Elide could only shake her head, the very wind itself sucking the air from her lungs. Lorcan stayed with her, his grip tight enough not to harm her, but to simply keep her upright. She knew he would stay with her all night, holding her and comforting her through her fears. He has done it so many times after what happened, after she found out where Aelin was.

She still hated herself for being so vile to him, for refusing to even look at up, much less acknowledge him, those first few weeks out at sea. She was so angry at what he did, and she did give him any chance to explain himself. It was only after they landed in a small port city where one of Cairn’s men supposedly was staying, after she found him in the tavern and tried to play him, after he informed her that the only way he was going to give up information was if she spent a night with him. It was after that night, and she limped back to the boat; sore, bruised, neglected, and broken. After she told the others where Aelin was, after Lorcan demanded she tell him where he was, only to find him gone. After Gavriel saw to the wounds she was comfortable having him see, Lorcan boiling with rage at her, the fae, and everyone in the world. After Lorcan refused to leave her side no matter what insults she spewed at him, after he came into her room to see her shaking and crying in her sleep from a nightmare. After they talked, and Lorcan got a chance to explain himself for what he did, and Elide could finally feel emotions again, did she finally forgive him for what he did, and he understood why Elide sold herself to such a horrible male who would not dare give her the worshiping she deserved.

A crack of lightning sent a shrill through Elide, her body slamming closer to Lorcan, seeking protection. He held her, trying to get her back inside with the wind slamming into him, but she kept refusing.

“Lorcan!” Gavriel's cry drew him away and he look up, the lightning had struck the mast, the long wooden pole now timbering towards them. He clutched Elide and dived, slamming into the wet wood, Elide releasing another cry as the mast collided onto the boat, splinters flying. Suddenly the boat was sinking, water was rushing in and men were already abandoning ship. Rowan gave a cry as wind shoved him back, fighting his magic, Gavriel caught him, but soon Lorcan saw the two collapse into the water.

His eyes widened and he crawled to the edge of the boat, still clutching Elide, “Rowan! Gavriel!” He called their names again and again, the two struggling to keep above the hounding waves. 

“Lorcan watch out!” Elide screamed, the two losing footing and tipping with the sinking boat. Lorcan clutched Elide to his broad chest, using all of his remaining strength to leap away from the boat, avoiding the horrible death of drowning beneath it.

The water was freezing and wild, easily shoving them this way and that. Lorcan managed to keep Elides head above water, his other arm clawing towards debre.

He reached a long, snapped piece of wood, pushing Elide onto it he held onto the side to keep it steady as she positioned herself.

Elide quickly scanned the area around them, all other pieces of wood too small to fit Lorcans massive size, and the two other fae males were nowhere to be seen.

“Go find something to float on!” She ordered, but it came out as a plea, her hands clutching his.

He breathed heavily, the ocean working against him and trying to rip him away from her soft hands. “No, I-I need to find the others, stay here. Whatever you do, stay here and you will be safe.” No, no she was not going to lose him, not after all they’ve been through, the emotions they’ve shared... have yet to share. One of his hands cupped her cheek, his roughness so opposite to her silky soft. “I promise I will find you, Elide. I promise we will meet again.”

Tears began to stream down her face, she clutched his hand harder, “You cannot promise me that! You know you can’t. I-I can’t lose you Lorcan, not now!” Lightning and thunder cracked, there were so little sailors left, judging by the amount he heard screaming.

Lorcan fought his instincts to stay with her, to wrap his arms around her and bring her into his warmth, and instead carefully pried her hands off of his, now both of his hands cupping her wet cheeks.

“Elide Lochan, I swear to Hellas that no matter how separated we are, how lost we are, I shall always come back to you before I have my dying breath.” A sob escaped her lips, neither have confessed their feelings for each other, Lorcan had felt the strange pull of love for a while, ever since that moment in the monster infested marsh, and was still working through this strange new feeling. Elide, however, she still did not know if what she felt for Lorcan was love, for never before had she felt it. And even though her heart fluttered every time she looked at him, even though she knew he would go to the ends of the world to protect and please her, she still was unsure if the two truly felt love for each other. “Now stay here, please.” His voice was deep, as if trying to hide the brokenness in it. With a final kiss on her forehead, Lorcan dived into the water and went searching for his brothers.

 

The two had been ship wrecked before, it was a rickety old trading shift they were trying to slip into enemies borders undetected, but a warship found them and quickly blew the ship to nothing. Gavriel and Rowan had both survived that, along with other members of the Cadre, but this storm was no war ship. It was worse. The water and wind tried to drive a wedge in between them, slicing through their magic as if it was nothing. Their muscles were giving out, trying find anything that could hold either of their weight, and fight the crashing waves that submerged them again and again.

The two took turns supporting the other out of the water so they could search, and when Gavriel took his turn to gaze into the black night, he saw something. “There!” He pointed to a part of the mast, long enough for the two to rest upon, if for only a moment. They swam for the log, the magical storm trying to stop them, but finally Rowan heaved his arm over, and dragged Gavriel to the log with him.

With their arms safely over the log, supporting them above the waves, they stopped and regained a small scrap of energy. Each male was breathing heavily, a mixture of sweat and rain and ocean drenching them. 

Gavriel spoke after gulping down some air into his lungs, “Do you... see the other two?”

“No,” Rowan exhaled, surveying the ocean. “Wait... there! It’s Lorcan.” Rowan pointed out towards the water, seeing the faint slick black hair bobing in the ocean towards them.

Rowan called out to him, waving his arm to get his attention, but something else caught his gaze. In the distance, a large wave was forming and heading straight towards them. The wall of water stood taller than Aelin’s wall of glass, wider than the walls of Dornalle, and faster than skinwalkers.

“Lorcan!” He called out one last warning, the slick head turning, only to be meet with the icy cold water. The impact threw Rowan from the board and Gavriel, leaving him struggling under the crushing waves.

He tried desperately to get above water, to gulp down as much air as he could, and when he finally thought this would be the end of him, he felt the tide calm down, and his body slip into unconsciousness.


	2. Awakening Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elide and Rowan has awaken in a strange new land, lost and surrounded by potential enemies, they must decide whether it is safe or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews! I have one more chapter queued up before I have to *gasp* write

Elide moaned at the dull pain all over her body, but the moan shifted to pleasure when she felt the warm mattress under her. The sun was lightly kissing her closed eyes, the once blackness that meet her was shifted to a pleasant red. She heard the dull sound of people working outside, the market place and people bargaining for items.

It was the lack of that horrible rocking of the boat that tipped her off, that reminded her of the events that took place just hours ago. She opened her eyes, not bothering to examine the room she was in when she attempted to shoot out of bed, held back only by her pain. She clutched her bandaged shoulder, taking in the room amongst her labored breathing. It was small, no more than a cottage, but it was warm and homely. The fire was roaring, keeping her nice and toasty, the kitchen no more than a pot over the fire, with a table that could be used for cutting. Shelves were filled with all sorts of things, bottles, pots, pans, food, and even some weapons were hidden in them.

She heard the latch unlock and snapped her head towards the heavy wooden door, reaching over for any sort of weapons, finding a poker for the fire, and held it close.

A pudgy sort of man entered, his nice clothes only complimented his warm and friendly face. Red beard large and fluffy, the red face almost as bright as his beard.

His bushy eyebrows raised, and he huffed a laugh, “Oh there missy. Ay don’t mean ya any harm now, just came by to see if ye were awake, and it appears that you are.” He made no step forward, did not lower his hands until Elide deemed him trustworthy and put down the iron poker, his heavy footsteps then creaked the wood as he approached. “You’re lucky our fishermen found ya when they did. Said ye was almost as blue as the ocean with how cold ye were! Li’l Oliver thought ye were some kind of ghost!” His stomach rumbled with his large laugh, but Elide did not share the humor.

Instead she narrowed her eyes, questioning. “Where am I?”

“Oh, ah beggin my pardon miss, I completely forgot my manners! You are in the small town of Brinegulf, I am the mayor here, Victar Rolft. And you are...?”

Elide thought, trying to think of how they could have ended up here, in this village, but she knew there would be no point in hiding her real name, if she wanted to find her friends anyway. “My name is Elide.”

Victar did not push about her surname, and simply gave a small bow, “A pleasure to meet you Elide. Now, I’ll have Ancret get you some fresh clothes and a hot meal, then we can have a chat about just how you came to our little town.”

He turned to leave, but Elide stopped him, “There were friends with me! Uh, three fae males, did you see them?”

“Faes,” Victar stopped, turning, his face slightly paled, and Elide reached for the poker again. “What’s a fine lady like you doin’ with three fae males? I-I mean no disrespect towards them of course, certainly not when they helped us so much lately but-”

“They were my friends and companions,” Elide interrupted. “Did you see them?”

“I... no Miss Elide, you were the only one found. I can however send word to Queen Vassa, she has contact with the fae lands beyond, and they can begin a search for your three companions.” Elide nodded and Victar left, Elide now grinding her teeth in trying to figure out where they were. They were definitely nowhere near the continent, and neither of the males ever mentioned coming across a land like this... where supposedly mortals and faes live in completely different areas of the world. She gave a silent prayer that wherever her friends were, they were safe.

* * *

 

Rowan awoke several minutes ago, he knew right when he regained his senses that he was somewhere new and possibly dangerous. They were close to the sea, he could smell the salt and hear the seagulls cry. He strained his hearing to figure out if there were any others around him, and what they were saying.

They were all faes, judging from their footfalls, and apparently he was the “only survivor of the wreck.” He did not believe that for one second, not until he saw Elide and Lorcan and Gavriel’s dead body would he believe such a thing.

The door opened and he kept limp, pretending to be asleep as the servant or healer hummed and placed something down on a table away from him. They did not approach him and instead opened some cabinets, murmuring to herself about getting more salve for infected wounds. She made for the door, Rowan still playing dead, when she called over her shoulder suddenly. “Get dressed and follow the guards, High Lord Tarquin wishes to meet with you.” The door closed with a thud, Rowan shot up and tried to get a look at the woman, but saw nothing save for a strange, almost wooden, hand. He growled softly to himself, definitely faes. He was completely lost now, he had never heard of this “high lord” nor has he ever seen a fae with wooden hands. He found the pair of clothes she was talking about, the warm blue and cream colors matching the water and foam of the sea... something he would honestly never wish to see again.

He changed, the clothes matching him almost perfectly... they must have measured him while he slept. He found a small knife used for cutting meat and slipped it into his boot, searching the room for any possible signs of his weapons. After confirming that he was ready and opened the door, a guard beside him greeted him roughly and began walking.

The palace was beautiful, Rowan was not denying that. They crossed a bridge and he could look out over to the port, the beautiful beach that had men and women enjoying their day of leisure or work; large, powerful ships were harbored or out towards the horizon, and the water a perfect calm and stillness that had Rowan gritting his teeth in frustration.

They reached a large door and stopped, the guard opening and announcing to his lord, then moved aside so Rowan could enter.

The High Lord stood behind a decent sized table, filled with platters and bowls of food that Rowan had never seen before. The High Lord himself looked young, perhaps younger than Rowan. His hair nearly matched his own, the crystal blue eyes accentuated by his rich brown skin. Rowan entered and gave a slight bow, but nothing more.

“And the mysterious male has awoken,” High Lord Tarquin chuckled. “I was about to go in there and splash you with water myself, enjoying the nap?”

“It was a much better bed than what I had previously.” Rowan countered the light humor, deciding not to get on this Lord's bad side.

“Now are you talking about the cot on the boat or the scrap of wood my men saw your body hanging over?” 

“Honestly, not much of a difference.” The lord laughed at that and gestured to the seat across from him, permitting Rowan to sit and eat. The High Lord sat, along with the male and female that were by him, both very attractive and bearing resemblance to him. Rowan waited until they grabbed their piece of food before he grabbed his, the same kind of food as the others.

The High Lord munched on the fish as he questioned, “My men say that you are the only one they found among the wreckage, and that the debris was very scattered, so there may be a chance that the others you were traveling with survived... or did you sail on your own sir...” He left it open for Rowan to answer, who took his time chewing, allowing himself time to think of an answer. They are kind and humble towards him, no sign of betrayal, yet, but also no sign of Maeve and her men...

“Rowan, no sir or lord,” He fished some more food, now wanting to try a bit of everything. “And yes, I was with others, two more of my kind and a mortal woman.”

“That’s an interesting group,” The female lifted a brow, leaning back as if bored.

The other male now leaned in to see her, “Depending on the reasoning.” He gave a wink, Rowan could only roll his eyes.

Tarquin brushed his relatives away, pondering, “We can begin to send letters out to the other courts along the shore, maybe even to the mortal realms, perhaps they know the whereabouts of your missing companions.” Rowan stared at his food, at the risk it would be to send out letters that could be intercepted, if Maeve found out they were following, if she found Elide...

“What is this country called?” The question caused blinks from all three of the lords and lady, the two on the outside leaning in to give each other questioning looks.

The female finally questioned cautiously, “You... don’t know where you are?”

“In case you forgot, I was shipwrecked out at sea, I don’t exactly have perfect navigational senses to tell where I am when I am unconscious.” Rowan shrugged, the two males snickered.

The female huffed, “You are in Prythian, more specifically the Summer Court.” Rowan looked away, he’s never heard of Prythian, and he doubts the others know of it as well. But if the storm did not throw them too off course... They were on track towards Maeve, sure of it. The male told Elide that if they wanted to defeat Maeve, to find the land of night, and the Lord that rules there.

“How many courts are there?” The others seemed put off by this questioning, the female appeared more agitated than the rest, but said nothing.

It was Tarquin who answered, “There are seven of us. The four seasonal courts, and the three solar courts.” Solar, which means a Night Court must be one of them.

Rowan weighed his options again, he could inform them of what has happened, who they are hunting, but if they are allies with Maeve... He would risk it, risk everything to get Aelin back.

He leaned forward, voice now deathly quiet, “What I am about to tell you does not leave this room. My companions and I are searching for a female, a dangerous one who has captured my love, and I think I will need your help.” The other three leaned in and listened to the tale, Rowan now hoping he had Gavriel to help him with the story, he was always good at talking to others.

He managed to make it through most of it, choking up on the last part, when discussing what Maeve did to Aelin, what she put her in.

Tarquin held up a hand, speaking softly, “You don’t have to finish. I think we get the idea of what happened.” Rowan nodded his thanks, drinking his water to hide the silver lining his eyes.

Tarquin leaned back, thinking deeply, almost muttering to himself. “So we have another female seeking power, and if she has the same idea as Hybern-”

“You think she’s at Spring Court?” The male questioned, eyebrows raised, the female gave him a wide-eyed stare.

Tarquin shrugged, sipping his wine. “I could be possible, if she offered Tamlin the ability to get his court back to his control, He’s certainly done it before...”

“You cannot try and seek this information,” Rowan quickly spoke. “If Maeve finds out, even thinks that we’re here, she’ll take Aelin far beyond our reach.”

“We will figure this out, Rowan. There’s a meeting in two weeks with the other High Lords, we can use that as a way to try and get more information.” Rowan nodded, picking at his food, but unable to actually eat anything.

They finished their meal, Rowan did not have the heart to accept their tour, instead going back to his room and shutting himself in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Don't forget to leave kudos if you enjoyed!!


	3. Awakening Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavriel and Lorcan has awakened in a new land, and they must use their resources to survive and find their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is having a good holiday break! This is my Christmas gift to you
> 
> no gift receipt you accept it like a man!

Gavriel spent almost the entire morning coughing up water, vomiting, passing out, and coughing up more water. The storm pushed him in land, a river current carrying him towards the river bank. After he was sure there was nothing more in his lungs or stomach, he began his search to figure out where he was, where his friends where, and how to find them. Unfortunately, the most he was able to gather for most of the day was that he was in a forest, a very dangerous forest, with a very large mountain overlooking it all. No signs of his companions, no familiar territory or even signs of civilization. Luckily he found his weapons, but the rocks had dulled out the blades, making them no more than slightly pointed sticks. Still, he managed to find some rabbits, hunting them down quickly he brought them back to his small campsite he was building, the sun now creating an orange glow over the world as it set. He set up traps to warn him of intruders, but as the howls and screeches emerged at the setting sun, he was beginning to doubt those traps. He has been stranded before, having nothing but the clothes on his back and a few daggers and short swords to defend himself, but even then, he was with at least one other member of the Cadre. Here he was alone, and with wounds that still needed tending to, his drained magic, and inability to shift, he was left truly alone. He made sure to cook the rabbits quickly, trying to avoid the smell of a fresh kill to any of the monsters that lurked within the forest. His fire was dim, just enough the illuminate the area of his miserable little campsite. 

He journeyed for several days, only resting when absolutely needing to. He first went south, but a horrible howl and the constant feel of something watching him quickly veered him northword. He avoided the mountain for now, not wanting to see what would lurk by a mountain that seemed to ooze evil.

He had a rather deep wound on his right leg, he’s been trying to keep it clean and patched up, but he figured out several days ago that it was indeed, infected. He swore every time he put weight on his leg, using every scrap of magic to heal and relieve pain from it. The forest was a maze, and at times he found himself wondering west or east, sometimes even south. Still, he did not lose hope that he would find his friends, or his friends would find him. They were all smart, resourceful, even Elide, who had impressed him ever since they first meet in the marshes.

He awoke with a loud snap and a cry, one of his traps was triggered. He was up in an instant and grabbed his sharpest sword, cursing himself for sleeping so late and so soundly. He approached the heavy, raspy breathing, catching the glimpse of grey skin and torn robes through the bushes. He assessed the damage his trap had done: The wooden spikes surrounded the thin leg, only one actually impaling the creature, but it was heavily secured to avoid it running off, and he could lift it up to hang the creature by said leg if need be.

“So shy of your catch?” The creature spoke, and Gavriel nearly jumped from his skin.  _ Perhaps it’s a skinwalker... oh that’s bullshit, they’d never stick around, especially in the day _ . He pushed his way through the bushes, now seeing the full view of the gangly creature, a creature that had milky white eyes that Gavriel thought pierced into his very soul.

He growled and began his interrogation, “What are you?”

The creature gave a hoarse laugh, still hunched over its leg, “We are called Suriel’s, stranger. All knowing creatures of this land.” Perfect, it seemed the Gods finally gave him a break.

Gavriel crossed his arms, offering his bargain, “Tell you what. You answer my questions, and I’ll see about getting you out and not gutting you where you stand, deal?”

“Haha, you males, always so  _ generous  _ in your bargains, but I accept.” The Suriel gave a low bow, standing a little straighter, “What do you wish to know, stranger?”

“Where am I?”

“You are in the land known as ‘Under the Mountain,’ the land that separates the seasonal courts and solar courts in Prythian.”

Useful, very useful. “My friends, where are they?”

“Hmm, even the wisest Suriel sometimes does not know all...”

Gavriel snarled, “That’s not an answer!”

The Suriel hisses at the threat, holding up a hand to stop the male, “I know where one of your companions are, if there are more I do not know. He is south in Summer Court. Safe, I know not, but High Lord Tarquin is a gentle male, so you may decide.”

“What do you know of Maeve and Aelin Galathynius?”

The Suriel was quiet for a while, Gavriel couldn’t help the increase in his breathing.

“The Fae Queen is not in Prythian, yet, but I know she is planning on gaining a foothold, if she hasn’t already. For now I believe she has taken refuge in Hybern, her prisoner held under heavy guard, and believe me when I tell you that they are dangerous enemies.” The Suriel hisses low, a dark past clearly in its memory.

“I need to find the Lord of Night, do you know where I can find him?”

“There is no way into the Night Court, no passage that will lead you to him, but there is another way. Directly north is Dawn Court, and in two weeks they are holding the monthly gathering of High Lords and the Mortal Queen to discuss the treaty, go to the tower in the far northeast, and you shall find him and possibly your friends.” Dawn Court, northeast, and find his friends. Gavriel thought of any more questions he could get answers to, but he needed to start moving if he wanted to get there in time.

Still, he found himself asking one last questions, “Aelin Galathynius... do you know... is she alright?”

The white eyes moved to stare at the ground, its shoulders moving inward, “None can be ‘alright’ if imprisoned. Alive, yes, but I do not know what condition she is in.” Their eyes snapped up, hard, solid stars stared into Gavriel with utter determination, “Find the Lord of Night and his Lady. They know Hybern and will help you in your quest.” Gavriel nodded, thanking the Suriel and released it from the trap, the pale leg limping back onto the forest floor.

Gavriel turned away, trusting the Suriel to not attack, but the raspy voice stopped him. “May I ask you a favor, stranger?”

Gavriel turned, thinking it only fair to help the Suriel after its helped him so much, “It’s Gavriel, and yes.”

The Suriel smiled and broken smile, its sharp teeth yellow and green from years of wilderness, “Gavriel, when you meet the High Lady of Night, tell her...” The eyes went dark again, and Gavriel could see the grief in those eyes. “Tell her that his name was Cator. Will you do that for me?” Gavriel nodded slowly, the name branding itself in his mind,  _ Cator _ . He turned and disappeared in the forest before the Suriel could stop him again.

~ ~ ~

Lorcan Salvalateere has traveled everywhere, from icy planes to scorching deserts, and survived the worst of it all. He was once lost in the desert for three days, no food or water, and hunters following his every move. Still, he persisted and gutted them all when they finally attacked. 

He’s never been to this land, he could tell, he would remember a land like this. He woke up the night of the shipwreck, the ocean waves pushing him steadily onto the sandy beach. He looked up and first saw the stars: beautiful shining stars and transfixed him, a glimmer he has never seen in any other land. No, he has never been to this land, for he would have remembered a night sky like that. And though he wanted to watch the night sky until the sun chased the stars away... Exhaustion racked his body, he needed to find somewhere safe, lest he be ambushed.

He managed to crawl and stumble into a small burrow, the creature inhabiting it vacant. He curled up and watched the stars until sleep took him. He woke up to snarling, the source of the snarlin blocking the rising sun, so opening his eyes was easy at least. It was some kind of badger, the owner of this hole, snarling at the intruder. Lorcan bared his teeth and returned the savage snarl, the badger immediately whimpered and ran off, blinding Lorcan.  _ Could have at least caught it for breakfast, idiot _ . He did not keep his mind focused on his mistake long, he needed to begin traveling, to find Rowan and Gavriel and Elide. He prayed someone at least found Elide and took her in, she did not deserve the be stranded out here in the wilderness.

He crawled out of the hole, traveling inland, towards the mountains that loomed not too far from him. It was a risk, going upstream of water to find a civilization, but the mountains were much closer, going downstream could take him too long. He found some squirrels and caught them quickly, not wasting his weak magic on them. He stopped only to get a fire going and cook the thin animals, eating them as he walked.

He traveled for most of the day, entering the mountains and the bitter cold, the dark forest surrounding him. This was a mistake, no one would dare to live here, the sense of danger around every tree, no place for a city. But his observations was quickly found wrong, for he heard beating wings coming, approaching fast. He palmed his weapons as a mixture of red and blue and green magic hit around him, warning him.

Five creatures landed, the looks of males, but their black leathery wings set them apart from anything he’s ever seen. Their weapons were drawn, a colored jewel in their brace glowed and pulsed, they meant to fight.

“Well lookie here boys,” The one ahead of him, the leader, sneered. “Been some while since a  _ half-breed  _ dared to trespass our lands.”

One took a quick step towards Lorcan, snapping his jaws, Lorcan turned and swiped with his axe. “A dangerous one to be sure, we’ll need to be careful with him.”

“I mean you no harm,” Lorcan spoke as loud as his rasped throat would let him. “I am simply lost due to a shipwreck, if you tell me where any  _ friendly  _ villages are I will be on my way.” They all laughed at that, wings tucked in tight. Locan was too tired to fight, especially five warriors he’s never encountered before,  _ oh now is not the time _ !

“Don’t know where you are, half-blood?” The leader spoke again, “Then let me inform you, you are in the Ilyrian woods. Ruled by our tribes, there is not a  _ friendly  _ village for miles. And do you know what the punishment for trespassing in our woods are?”

“Death?” Lorcan lifted a black brow, axe loose in his hand, ready to throw.

The leader took a step, then another one. “For most, yes. But for you, oh I think our chief will want to meet you.” Enslavement, they meant to enslave him or some nature, Lorcan knew what “meeting the chief” meant. He did not give them a chance to see the attack, he raised his black smoke wall around him, hiding. They cried out and began to lift off the ground, he threw an axe toward one, missing, but it managed to tear clean through his wing. His screech of horrible, their wings are sensitive, perfect. He drew his sword, focusing his attacks on the wings, but they were still too quick. Magic struck his wall, blocking, but his wall was crumbling quickly. Too tired, he was still too tired and sore from the wreck, and the hunger and dehydrations was not helping. A strong red blast finally dissipated his wall, darting towards the cover of the trees, hoping it would cause them to land.

No such luck, for they new the forest too well, and suddenly one was on top of him, shoving Lorcan down into the dirt with a powerful flap of the wings. He struggled, trying to build his magic, to flare out at the others who gathered, but soon they were dog piling onto him. Magic bounded his hands, then his feet, and finally a green gag was summoned tight around his mouth.

“Get him ready for travel,” The leader ordered, and they did. They disarmed him off all his weapons, taking knives out of his boots, his back, hips, everywhere. Ropes were replaced with magic, tight and digging into his skin. His arms were brought over his head, the remaining of the rope was tied around one of the Ilyrian’s waist, another tied the rest of the rope of his feet around his waist. Did they mean to fly him back? How far away was their camp?   
“You break the ropes, and we’re not coming down after you,” The leader hissed, and that answered Lorcan’s first question. Without warning they took off, wind bushing hard against him, but the Ilyrian’s flew still. Lorcan dared not to look down, already knowing they were far above the trees, for the tips of mountains were lined up with his eyes. They flew slow, slower than Lorcan knew they wanted too due to his weight. The two holding him worked together to make sure he stayed stretch, but not to the point of painful, just enough so Lorcan could not get an advantage.

Lorcan could only hope that Elide was far, far away from these horrid creatures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's hope that I can finish the next chapter before Wednesday!
> 
> Don't forget to comment or leave kudos, they really go a long way!!


	4. The Mortal Realm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elide joins the Mayor for breakfast and decides whether they truly are trustworthy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late, I got a Switch for Christmas so naturally I spent every waking moment playing Breath of the Wild (which is AMAZING by the way!)
> 
> Also school starts back up in two days so pray for me...

Ancret brought Elide a simple green dress, it reached the floor, yellow hemming stitching as flowers up to her waist. It was simple, warm, and hid her mangled ankle; Elide glad to have washed up in this town. Ancret was Victar’s wife, a lovely woman with rich brown hair that was tied back in two simple braids that reached her waist. Her slightly wrinkled face was warm and comforting, always smiling, even when examining her destroyed ankle.

“You poor thing,” Ancret cooed. “How did this happen?”

Elide shrugged, taking her ankle away, “It was a childhood injury.” Ancret made no show that she was hurt my Elide’s closed self, she only smiled and lifted, beckoning her.

“Well I bet a nice warm meal will get all those shivers away! Come along.” Elide slipped into the brown shoes, following Ancret out to the sunlight.

The town was simple, dirt roads leading to and from the market place, people going about their business and paying no heed to Elide, in fact they seemed more focused on Ancret. They came up to her and bid her good morning, asking how her morning's’ been, and even asking questions about the Winter Solstice coming up.

They reached the large house at the other side of town, a large and beautiful garden surrounded it with children running around bare footed.

“What have I told you two about being outside without shoes?” Ancret scolded, the kids stopped dead in their tracks, fear filled the young eyes.

The girl lowered her head, murmuring. “Sorry Mama An,” Ancret’s scold did not last, Elide saw a smile creep up her aged face.

“Just be lucky the thorns didn’t begin to drop, or else you’d be spending another day having them picked out of you!” The kids nodded and hurried of inside, resuming their playing. “Those two are my eldest grandchildren,” Ancret explained as she entered the home. “Pure energy in those two, I swear they were made by the sun itself.” Elide laughed with her, following her through the large home.

It was nice yet simple, not overly lavish: a fireplace cracked in the living area, which was surrounded by cushions and wooden chairs, with two large fabric chairs sitting the closest to the fire. People milled about the house, some wore servant clothing, but they were clean and nice looking, not the rags Elide remembered wearing in Morath.

She was brought through the home and out another door, there Victar sat with a glass of juice in his hand, looking out over the fields before him.

He looked up at the sound of the creaking door, standing and clapping. “Ah good! You two made it not a moment too soon, breakfast is just about ready! Come, sit young miss.” He brought out a chair and Elide carefully sat, blinking to make sure this was not some odd dream.

When was the last time someone made her breakfast? Someone smiled so warm and gentle towards her? This was all so dreamsicle, as if she took the body of another young woman who was supposed to be receiving this treatment.

A platter was placed before her, the enticing smell caused her stomach to twist and mouth salivate.

She was ready to dig in and have her fill, but Rowan’s voice echoed through her head. 

_ It doesn’t matter how nice they may seem, you wait for them to take a bite of their food before you, eat only what they eat. If they offer you something, you don’t take it unless they’ve eaten the same thing. _

It was the first week into their journey when the three sat her down and began to lesson her on how to survive the wild, how to avoid being kidnapped or poisoned. Elide took in the information, every bit of it, glad to be drilled again and again on escape tactics.

She did not eat first, she watched Victar and Ancret take the pieces of bacon and toast that was set out before them, and took them as well. She did not touch the eggs placed before her as she ate.

“Oh dear, do you not like eggs?” Ancret frowned, her pout seemed so truthful, like she was blaming herself that she did not know Elide did not like eggs.

“Just... not in the mood for them.” Elide answered, continuing to eat her bacon. Ancret did not press further, only ate her own eggs and drink her wine.

“Now dear,” Victar dapped his mouth with a cloth, speaking softly. “Do you remember the events leading up to your unfortunate accident?”

_ Speak truthful unless you know they are an enemy, lying will get you nowhere and only cause more troubles _ .

Still, it was hard to collect the events from the night... two nights? How long has she been out?

“We... I woke up in the middle of the night,” Elide started, staring at a small brown smudge on the white table. “A terrible storm had gathered, but it was no normal storm. It tore through my companions magic like it was nothing, the captain swore there was not supposed to be a storm for at least a couple of days. They tried to fight it, but it seemed to be fighting back. Lightning struck our  mast and it fell, practically cutting our ship in half. I managed to get to a piece of driftwood... one of my companions went off to find the others... I didn’t seem him after that.” Gods, the three could very well be dead, drowned or crushed her even eaten by horrible sea creatures.

No, no there’s no way in hell that happened! Elide cursed herself, those three made it out, they’re alive and she’ll find them.

Ancret’s soft hum tore her away from her thoughts, those aged eyes gave her such a sad look. “Oh you poor dear, you must have been so frightened.” Elide blinked, sure she was scared, but she can plainly recall events that have been scarier... most of them in Morath.

“Yes, it was terrifying.” She played the sad, lost girl easily, almost too easily she thought. Her eyes so quickly turning dark and casted away, voice wavering from fear.

“Indeed, such a horrible thing to happen to a young miss like yourself,” Victar shook his head, Elide fought back a laugh. “But, I must know, what was the reason you and your fae companions came in search of our land?” His eyes narrowed, sceptical but wary, as if he is unsure whether to truly feel sorry for Elide or not.

She couldn’t possibly tell him, it doesn’t matter how nice they are, how trustworthy they seem, she cannot possibly tell them about Aelin or Maeve.

A Queen, she remembered him mentioning a Queen, a Queen who had helped him and his town recently, along with the faes...

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t tell you,” Elide replied, standing straighter. “I must speak with your Queen, if you wish for your town to remain safe, then you must contact her.” Vicar and Ancret exchanged looks, speaking without words, she remembered seeing Aelin and Rowan do that...

“Well luckily for you Queen Vassa was recently rescued from the sorcerer who had imprisoned her,” Victar smiled. “I can send a bird to the mortal Queens homes, she’s been most adamant about coming personally to deal with any problems we’ve had.” He rang a small bell on the table, a servant quickly came and he ordered for a pen and parchment.

“What trouble has your town had?” Elide questioned, taking a bite of her eggs, which had Ancret glowing with happiness.

Victar sighed, eyes darkening. “Well... it was really all of the mortal lands that suffered, but our land was the closest to the King and his army for a time... You see Miss, our lands were divided by this magical barrier, known at the Wall, it was erected long before even my great great great dad was born.”

“It was after the Great War,” Ancret continued. “When the mortal rebelled from the faes, wishing for freedom.”

“Yes, yes we won, thanks to the help of some other fae lands. And the wall was erected so faes would be unable to come to our lands and try to take our homes, our people. It was also there to keep us away from meddling in their affairs.” Victar sipped on his wine. “You see up north, beyond the wall was the Fae Courts... how many were there? Six, seven? Ah, I forget, but the point is we have remained secluded of them for thousands of years.”

“Indeed,” Ancret’s voice darkened. “But then, one day, people from towns farther north were fleeing to us, begging for refuse, declaring that the wall was destroyed and faes were coming to kill them.” Elide gulped, these faes did not seem like the kind that would help them find Aelin.

“It was a bloody disaster,” Victar was rubbing his temples. “People were throwing fingers at which court caused it, if this meant another great war was brewing, they were all completely blind to the Hybern army marching towards our land.”

“Turns out it was the Hybern kingdom that destroyed the wall and was sending its forces down to begin war. The courts north were working to stop them.” Ancret took her husband's hand, holding it close.

Victar stared at Elide, his brown eyes deep with horrid memories. “People began to go missing, fae scouts were being seen, magic building up around us... I was sure that it was the end. But then, then they left, and we know why.”

“It could be heard for miles upon smiles,” Ancret’s eyes began to drift. “Shouts and the clashing of swords and magic, horrible... monstrous sounds.”

“The courts of Prythian won, thankfully,” Victar gave a weak smile. “Queen Vassa came in just in time to save their sorry fae asses. She came to each town to declare it was safe, that they would all work together to mend our towns and hearts, to form a treaty that would require no wall... so we could all live in peace.” Elide was speechless, these courts, this mortal Queen, they were what they needed to get Aelin back, to take Maeve down.

Pen and parchment was delivered, and Victar wrote his note, having it quickly sent off to the Queen.

Ancret showed Elide around the home more, she ran into Ancret’s youngest daughter, Jule, and Elide was quickly whisked off to go tour the town and shop.

Elide didn’t mind, it was nice to spend time with someone who was not an immortal warrior only concerned about bloodshed and their muscles, but she quickly came to realize that she did not like shopping.

“Why does it matter what color dress I wear?” Elide nearly groaned as her arms were being filled with more and more dresses.

Jule rolled her eyes and explained, “color means everything! The right color compliments eyes, hair, skin, and makes you look slimming all the same! For you... hm, anytype of pink shade or green would go nice. Darks hide your dark eyes and hair, but they do bring out your pale skin and body.” Elide had absolutely no idea what Jule was talking about, but she quickly realized that this was not going to end soon.

Elide sighed, and shifted weight, trying to take it off her mangled ankle. “I’m terribly sorry, but I have an injured ankle and I’m unable to stand for long periods of time without it hurting, perhaps we could do this another time?” Jule looked absolutely horrified, quickly taking the dresses back and muttering apologies after apologies, guiding her back to the home.

That night Elide spent in a nice large bed, curled up in silk sheets and soft pillows, but no matter the comforts that were brought her way, she laid in bed awake and horrified of the possible states of her friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Let's see if I can update within a reasonable time...


	5. Summer Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Rowan dines with Lord Tarquin he finds himself unable to leave his room...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! We opened our Beauty and the Beast performance so I'm busy as h*ck for a couple of weeks
> 
> then we start on UIL competition... hooray!

Rowan finished breakfast with High Lord Tarquin and the Prince and Princess of Adriata: Varian and Cressedia. The three would ask Rowan questions, trying to fill holes and get as much information as possible. Rowan would try to answer them all, but sometimes he couldn’t quite answer the questions regarding Aelin. Luckily they understood, Rowan thanking the Gods for having him wash up on other faes and not mortals.

“Why don’t I give you a tour of Adriata,” Tarquin suggested as the plates were being cleared. “Might as well get familiar with the place you will be staying.” He’s being friendly, Rowan told himself, he wants him to feel secure in knowing the layout of this unfamiliar land.

Rowan sighed, bearing a soft smile. “No thank you, I’m afraid I’m still rather exhausted from the events.”

Cressedia and Varian exchanged looks, Tarquin simply waved his hand. “Of course, if that storm truly was magical, you’re magic must still be trying to recover from the ordeal. Alis will see you to your room.” Rowan bowed and stood, following the woodend fae back to his room.

“If you need anything you just tell me.” Alis told as he led him up the winding stairs. “And don’t worry about Lord Tarquin and them, he’s a king High Lord, he’ll help you find your mate.” She was listening? Is she some sort of spy? Rowan only nodded and entered the room, a little larger than the one he awoke in, the bed looking much comfier and fit for a guest rather than a wounded soldier back from war.

“Thank you,” Rowan whispered, and Alis left, the door clicking softly behind her. Rowan sighed heavily, not even bothering to take his boots off as he collapsed on the bed and stared at the high ceiling, the grief too much.

Rowan locked himself in his room for three days, only Alis coming to bring him meals and a change of clothes, always noting how nice the day was, how it would be a waste to stay inside all day.

Rowan did not notice, time melding together as he let his thoughts consume him, trying to reach out, to touch that fire at the other end...

* * *

* * *

 

Alis huffed as she noticed the mysterious fae male still laying in that bed,  _ at least his boots are finally off _ ! She’s had enough, she left the room, closing the door a little too loud and marched down the halls.

She knocked only once before entering High Lord Tarquins chambers, giving a deep courtesy as he sat behind his desk.

“My Lord,” Alis began. “I’m afraid I must share my worries with you.” Tarquin gave a small smirk, leaning back, allowing her to continue. “The male, Rowan, it is doing him no good to just sit in there all day and mope about.” She was careful to keep her voice even, fighting the effort to sigh and huff.

“My dear, I can’t simply force him to go on a tour,” Tarquin gave a small laugh. She knew that, he’s a guest, not a prisoner, but Alis would not accept that.

She stepped forward, hands folded before her. “My Lord, do I have your permission to... convince Lord Rowan to accompany you on a walk?”

Tarquin only shrugged, “I don’t think I could stop you. Only, do try and not... how shall I put this?”

“Don’t drag him out by his ears and lock the door behind him?”

“Precisely.”

Alis bowed again, her smile widening. “Of course My Lord.” She turned to leave, but Tarquin called out. “Was Feyre ever this difficult?”

Alis stopped, the memories causing a warm smile to her lips, she sighed. “At first, but she was quick to... adjust.” Tarquin laughed and Alis left his chambers, making back for room.

* * *

* * *

Rowan was getting ready to drift off to sleep again when the door bursts open, Alis entering with a clean pair of clothes in her hand.

She set them down and pointed to them. “Get dressed, you’re going to accompany High Lord Tarquin on a walk.”

Rowan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ah, no thank you Ali-”

“Oh I’m sorry,” the interruption caused Rowan to snap his eyes open and stare at her warm brown eyes. “I do not believe I asked you. I recall I  _ told  _ you that you are going to go on a walk with our High Lord.”

Rowan sat up at that, eyebrows raised, arms crossed. “You’re  _ ordering  _ me? Am I a prisoner now?”

Alis huffed, hands on her wide hips. “Certainly not, but I will not stand you laying around all day, moping about!”

“I’m not  _ mopping _ -!”

“What else do you call locking yourself in your room and being sad?” Rowan thought of another word, he really did, but none seemed better than “mopping.”

“Exactly,” Alis nodded, stepping forward. “Some fresh air will do you good, and some sun.” Rowan sighed, she was right, he knew that, but he just couldn’t find it within himself to do it.

He felt the bed dip slightly, her hand now taking his. “I know it’s hard, darling. You believe that all is lost, that your other half is ripped away from you and dangling over a dark pit, and you have no way to rescue her. But doing this is no good, sitting here and believing all is lost. You must go and do something, the only way you will get her back is by doing something.”

“And how will going on a tour help in bringing her back?” Rowan growled, Alis saw a silver line along his eyes, but said nothing.

She kept her hands in her lap, not wanting to provoke an emotional male. “Well, talking to our High Lord will give you more information on where you are and your possible allies or enemies. He would be willing to show you a map of all the courts and where we could begin searching, there are many benefits, you just have to use that fussy male brain of yours.” She tapped his temple, he swatted it away and stood, saying nothing as he grabbed the pile of clothes and went towards the bathing room. “Shall I have Lord Tarquin meet you at the bottom of the steps?” Alis called out, but Rowan only slammed his door as an answer. Her small smile grew in vicious victory as she lifted and fixed up the room a little bit, before leaving to inform her High Lord of his new afternoon plans.

* * *

* * *

It felt good being in fresh clothes, Rowan thought begrudgingly, fixing the last of the lapels on his coat. Alis brought him fresh brown pants and a white thin shirt, a brown jacket with green stitching and gold clamps. All of it was perfected with a gold and emerald belt.  _ Those are real jewels _ , Rowan realized as he fixed it, the shiny green emeralds reflecting in the mirror, the gold cool against his skin.

He fixed his boots on, slipping the kitchen knife in once again as he left his room. There was no guard at his door, they must have deemed him harmless enough to let him roam if he ever wished. He found the steps from his foggy memory of the last time he was climbing these steps, descending down the spiraling stairs, only hearing his footsteps on the stone.

He reached the bottom, finding the High Lord leaning against a wall, waiting for him. His tunic and trousers were fit for a Lord, shimmering blue with diamonds and rubies accentuating his outfit.

“So Alis did manage to get you out of your hole without violence, impressive.” Tarquin began, his smile just a bit slanted as he took in Rowan. “At least you cleaned up nice.”

Rowan lifted an eyebrow, “Were you going to send me back if I didn’t?”

“While that would be tempting, I think Alis would make sure to give me cold food for the next week.” Tarquin laughed, turning and motioning Rowan to follow.

It was surprisingly easy, Rowan realized, walking around and interacting with Tarquin. The High Lord kept the conversation light and easy, but enough to keep Rowan’s attention and not let his thoughts wonder. He did see a lot of the palace, found out where it was located and its advantages.

Apparently the Lady of Night is a friend of Tarquins, for when Rowan mentioned her, the High Lord responded with a laugh and a bright smile.

“Feyre is definitely the woman who can help you in getting Queen Aelin back,” Tarquin added after he calmed down. “She might refuse to tell you her plans, but her and Rhys always seem to get the job done.”

“You two must be good friends,” Rowan offered, hoping to get more information about this Feyre.

“Oh indeed, although we did not start out with... the best relationship. After all she did steal from me.” Oh, well... that’s not what Rowan was expecting. “But I soon figured out,” Tarquin continued as they walked along the balcony; the warm evening hair blowing through his hair. “She did it for the benefit of everyone, she tried to stop the King of Hybern before he became too powerful. She stole because she was afraid to tell us, I have respect for her, for the burden she shoulders.” Her and Aelin would be good friends, Rowan realized dimly. Never telling people their plans, stealing for the benefit of the good, Gods he can practically see her wild smirk, laughing with Tarquin as she would add “ _ A woman after my own heart _ .”

“Rowan?” Tarquin’s voice was close, a heavy hand on his shoulder. He felt magic enter his body, it was as if water was rushing through him, cleansing his mind of the thoughts.

Rowan looked up, clearing his throat, trying to open it up. “My... my apologies. I just, I just got carried away.”

“It’s alright to miss her,” Tarquin consoled. “When I was Under the Mountain, I forgot the feeling of warm, free air. Missed the sound of rushing water. We all missed something, family or even just our freedom, while trapped under there.” Tarquin’s eyes began to go dark with memories, Rowan realized with a pain in his gut that this was how the others saw him for those past weeks. Gazing off into the distance with silver lining his eyes.

Rowan clasped a hand on his shoulder, moving to face the High Lord. “Well you’re back, you managed to escape, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do with Aelin. We’re going to get her back.”

Tarquin smiled. “Indeed, I don’t believe this Queen Maeve will stand a chance against fussy fae males and a  _ very  _ dangerous female.” Rowan laughed with him, drowning out the cry of seagulls.

The two continued towards the training grounds: it was shaped to resemble an arena, a sandy pit with a wall surrounding it, a railing above so they can look down.

Rowan saw Varian training with some other guards, dodging and maneuvering the sand expertly, his attacks timed and strong. The guards didn’t stand a chance, Rowan realized just before Varian quickly knocked all three of their asses to the ground, crowning him the victor.

Varian stashed his sword within the sand as he moved to the table, downing a cup of water, some leaking out and cooling his bare torso from the forever-summer sun.

Varian looked up and raised a cup to his High Lord, but smirked when he caught sight of Rowan. “So he lives! A shame, really, I just told the Priestess to get a funeral ready for you.”

“Save it,” Rowan returned the cat-like smile. “You might be needing it for when I kick your ass.”

“Is that a challenge Lord Rowan?” Varian straightened, eyeing Rowan intently. A duel, Gods Rowan hasn’t practiced since before the storm, but it would be a good for him.

“Give me a couple minutes to warm up, then we’ll see just how good you  _ high  _ faes are.” Varian nodded, Tarquin lead him down to the sandy pit, letting him choose his weapon. Rowan stripped himself of his shirt, for just being down their on the sand brought beads of sweat to his forehead. He did his usual warm up, other guards now gathering around the wall above, whispering and placing bets.

Rowan had a good bit of sweat pooling just after his warm up, Gods how do they fight in this? The sand was quickly becoming too hot to stand still, having to toe around and avoid getting his shoes burned off.

“Ready?” Varian questioned, sword raised, leveling him.

Rowan nodded, raising his sword and sizing up his opponent, this would certainly be interesting.

“Winner is the one who disarms and pins,” Tarquin went over the rules. “Do try not to kill my Captain, I still need him.”

“I will certainly try,” Rowan replied. Tarquin shrugged and began the duel, Varian lunged.

Rowan blocked and tried to circle around, but the sand was slowing him down. Varian, however, quickly turned on his feet and lunged again, barely allowing Rowan time to breath. It happened over and over again, a viper lunging at its victim before curling back in on itself.

_ Damned this sand _ ! Rowan growled to himself, he remembers fighting in a desert long ago, but he was not used to it now. Varian lunged, Rowan dodged, and this time he found an opening. He swung left, Varian having to twist awkwardly to block the swing, back stepping and kicking up stand.

Rowan went on the offensive, cheers began ringing out, the two circling the ring, kicking sand everywhere.

Then Rowan felt water hit him, pushing him back, nearly causing him to fall over. He nearly blocked Varian’s counter attack, shoving him backwards with a cry, breathing heavily.

“Really? Magic?” Rowan lifted a brow, “Am I just too much for you?”

Varian twirled his sword, “You said you wanted to see how good we are, I just wanted to give you a taste.”

Rowan’s smile grew, stalking around his opponent. “Then surely you wouldn’t me showing you  _ my  _ magic?” Varian’s smile was back instantly, bending his knees and getting into position.

Rowan waited, circling slowly, and sure enough Varian lunged at him again, but he never made it. A wall of ice appeared before him, he crashed into it and fell backwards, having to roll away from Rowan’s attack. Laughter rang from the wall, even Rowan saw Tarquin struggling to hide his shaking shoulders as Varian’s suddenly red forehead.

“Ice? Okay well, this will be interesting.” Varian noted, and attacked.

So it was interesting, Rowan realized, with Varian’s water attacking he would try to freeze them and send them back, but Varian would melt it before it could make contact. Water, ice, water, that was the scene on the dueling floor, the sand now becoming mud.

Rowan managed to freeze another wave of water, this time breaking it up into icicles and having them descend to Varian.

There was a gasp heard on the wall, but Rowan paid it no heed, he was not going to kill him course, just get them close enough to be painful. But Varian lifted his sword to block his face, and Rowan gave a cry as the iron gave a sudden sharp pain to his body.  _ Why do they have iron? Does it not affect them _ ?

Varian acted immediately, charging forward and attacking, Rowan had little time to react as Varian disarmed him, but Rowan shoved him away and ran to the other side, his sword between them.

“Iron hurts you?” Varian questioned, confusion on his face, running a quick eye over Rowan to make sure he was not horribly injured. He wasn’t, but he was quickly becoming too exhausted to continue.

“It doesn’t hurt you?” Rowan questioned, gulping down air, building his magic.

Varian shook his head, “I guess every fae has their weakness.” He raised his sword, ready for Rowan to try and go for his own.

He’d never make it, he knew a trap when he saw one, but his magic was building, enough for one more wave.

Rowan straightened, walking towards him leisurely. “Aye, that we do, but never judge a fae by their looks.” Varian narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what Rowan was doing, but he never saw the attack.

The air suddenly left his lungs, rushing out of him, any attempts to gulp down air was futile. He gasped, quickly choking from the lack of air and descending, clawing at his throat.

Rowan picked up his sword and went to Varian, who was kneeling and hunched over, he dropped his sword on his way down.

Rowan picked it up with his other hand, and let the air rush back into Varian. The Prince gasped and went into a coughing fit, filling his lungs once again. But he stopped dead when he felt the two blades against his neck, a killing blow to be sure.

There was silence, Varian’s eyes blown wide while Rowan only had his playful smirk.

“Looks like we have our winner.” Tarquin announced, and the cheers began. The arena was filled with sounds, cheering and clapping, somewhere “awing” and the sound of money was heard.

Rowan dropped his sword and held out his hand, Varian took it and lifted, taking back his sword that Rowan handed him.

“You win this time, but I’ll be ready the next time.” Varian warned, but his smile was light. The two clasped each other on the back and complimented on a good fight.

That night Rowan went to bed exhausted, sore and aching, and it was the best night sleep he’s had in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


	6. The Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavriel makes his way slowly to his destination, but he knows something is lurking within the dark...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! I was hammered with school and school performances. Unfortunately I'm not out of the woods yet, but I should have a little bit more time on my hands!

Gavriel made slow progress north, with the rough terrain, his drained magic, and scavenging berries and rabbits, he was amazed he made it to Dawn Court at all.

He figured he entered it when he awoke one morning to perhaps the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

The night sky was turning into shades of red, orange, yellow, and purple. The stars melting away into a fiery glow as the darkness was chased west. The colors molted together, like lava ascending in the sky. When the sun appeared it only made it more bright and beautiful, the rays kissing the land, kissing and warming Gavriel’s haggard face, greeting the world and beginning a new day. A day that starts out with beauty and colors and a completely serenity that has fallen upon the land. Gavriel looked at the sunrise for and impossibly long time, until the sky finally took its typical blue shade and the sun was well over the horizon.

Still, even with the relatively flat land, it was a hard walk.

Of course the creatures following Gavriel didn’t help.

They’ve been following him since his encounter with the Suriel, Gavriel has felt their presence behind him, tracking him. He slept light, weapons close at hand an traps ready, yet nothing moved. Still, he swore he saw shadows moving within the tree lines, piercing eyes watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake. Gavriel had hoped that once he reached the plains, the creatures would call their hunt off, unsuited for hunting in such open areas.

Gavriel did not have that luck, for they seemed apt to hunt in any climate and location. 

He prayed they would not make a move, that they were just curious as to what this new creature is,  _ maybe they’re friendly shadow monsters _ ?

No such luck, for after watching the sun dip into the horizon his first night, rooted in his spot and watching the rays of light descend and beckon the darkness, he realized he was out in the open in darkness.

He got rid of his shirt, using it as tinder for his makeshift torch as he continued,  _ just need to find a safe place to camp _ .

The growls got to him first, the wet, gargling growls that began to surround him on all sides. These creatures were definately creatures of the night, for they were nearly completely shrouded in the darkness.

He could risk shifting, using the extra agility to climb a tree and hide out until morning, or simply try to outrun them.

He felt one come up behind him, he spun and waved the torch before him, getting a glimpse of a scaly side as it darted away.

They were playing with him, toying before they devoured him.

“Not good,” He hissed, hearing the grass hiss and sway as four dark figures circled him. He’d have to run for it, he doubt he could take four brand new creatures in the dead of night in his state, but maybe could scare them off...

He got his chance when one lunged for him again, and with his right hand he drew his sword and swiped, slicing at the creatures face, and if anything Gavriel through the gash was an improvement on the completely horrid face.

The creature cried out in pain, two more lunged, Gavriel ducked ones leap and managed to stab the other in the underbelly. The creatures regrouped, the four now before him, grouped and ready for a chase.

_ Well I would hate to disappoint their plans _ . Gavriel gave one last blast of his magic, bright light blinding the creatures as they shrieked, Gavriel turned and ran like a deer escaping the depths of hell.

It was only his ragad breath for a little bit, before he heard the growls and stomps of the other creatures quickly catching up. He ran North East, if that’s where the treaty is, perhaps there’s something else along the way?

He kept the torch, pumping his arms and legs faster as the moon rose. The creatures swiped and bite at him, Gavriel avoiding each one, but barely. A claw always seemed to find its target, scrapping a new cut along his back or arms.

_ Oh shit _ , he nearly sobbed at the sight of the large hill before him. He could try to go around, but he doubt he’d be able to go fast enough to actually turn away from them. He gave a prayer for the Gods as he began up the steep hill, his lungs being stabbed with a thousand needles with each breath, legs as hot as the torch he’s holding. How he did not fall he didn’t know, perhaps the Gods could here him even in this strange land, or maybe the creatures were just playing with him...

He did not dwell upon it, not when he saw a wall in the distance, a wall with lights and building inside,  _ and people _ ! He sight made him buckle, leaving him open for a creature to lunge, and bite down on his right leg.

He cried out, falling and tumbling down the hill with the creature, all the while wrestling his leg out of the damned creatures mouth.

He finally got a knife out, embedding it within the creatures black eye, and it shrieked. Gavriel wasted no time getting up, a new nearly unbearable pain shooting through his right leg as he ran for the town, for the guards that were now trying to figure out the commotion.

He needed the attention off of him, needed the naga to be interested with the guards and the guards to see  _ them  _ and not  _ him _ as a threat.

If the guards saw what was in the darkness, got the close enough...

The four began closing ranks behind him again, he was running out of option, for there’s no way those guards would open the gate for him to just drag those creatures inside. 

But he saw it, his saviour, a lone farmer staying late to wheel the mountain of hay and other crops to his barn.

Gavriel sprinted past and chucked the torch, it landed in the wagon, the dry straw igniting to life, he heard the farmer cry out in surprise. Gavriel heard the farmer cry out again, this time positively  _ terrified _ .

“Naga! Naga!” He farmer shrieked, leaving his cart and running away from the Naga.

Gavriel heard a bell being rung, voices crying out and arrows flying, Gavriel did not stop running.

He ran until the voices faded out, until he could not see the towering fire, nor hear the stomps of the creature. And by the time he truly felt safe again, the sun was letting those beautiful colors paint the sky and welcome him to a warm ray of sunshine.

Gavriel collapsed beneath a tree, passed out before he could even take a look at his injuries and slept through the entire day.

That, as it turned out, had been a mistake, for whatever those creatures had, it was highly infectious.

“Shit.” Gavriel swore as he tried to move his leg, and failed miserably. He could see how different his legs were, how his left was only muddied, but the right was red and huge and still bleeding.

He found a creek, not even bothering to take of scraps of clothing as he soaked, letting the water wash away the blood and dirt and grime, leaving only the open wounds and redness. He tried to use his magic, to clean the wounds and stop the infection, but it was just too much. He was left exhausted and hadn’t even closed all the wounds, nearly falling asleep in the creek until he was able to haul himself out and curl up by the tree again.

He vaguely remembers waking up to the beautiful sun rise again, he only remembers the hunger and pain coursing through him, as well as the shivers that wracked his body.

This is bad, he needs to find these High Lords and fast. Gavriel found a large branch that fell some time ago, picking it up and testing its strength, he deemed it worthy enough.

He carefully limped on to the Northeast, all his energy going into walking and healing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Love me some suffering :)
> 
> Gavriel doesn't deserve this tbh


	7. Author's Note

So.... long time no see

 

Apologies for the very long gap, but I have some uhhhhh news?

 

Basically I was diagnosed with depression and since then I've been spiraling down into nothingness and just like really having a hard time getting the motivation to do anything.

 

I'll be starting on meds/supplements soon so hopefully that will help and I'll be able to get back to writing!! Thanks for being patient with me and hopefully you'll hear more from me soon ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


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